Annie tried to keep her feelings of distress from showing. Why was it so hard? For seventythree years she had been struggling to keep her feelings to herself. That was how she was brought up. "Don't make a scene, Annie," her father would say to her. "Show them you've got some backbone." And she had listened. No matter how much she hurt inside, she was usually able to keep her emotions bottled up. Only once had she failed. It was when Frank died.

Frank had been her life. Forty years they had been husband and wife. How quickly the years had flown by! They had raised three children together good children, successful children. So successful they had moved away from the tiny town where they had been raised. Each Sunday they would phone. Occasionally, one of the grandkids would get hold of the phone and tell Annie the latest joke making the rounds of the schoolyard. Like, "What kind of teeth can you buy for a dollar? Buck teeth." She loved those silly jokes. And at Christmas each of them made it in at least every other year. There were responsibilities to their spouses' families, of course. Annie longed to see them more, but she understood. They did the best they could.

It was only a few months after their fortieth anniversary that Frank died. That was fifteen years ago, but still Annie grieved. No one saw her grieve, of course. The tears only welled up in her eyes now on special occasions: Frank's birthday, Christmas and, of course, on their anniversary. "We used to end our anniversary evening with my special peach cobbler, and listening to old records out on the back porch." Annie sighed inwardly. "Now it's all I can do to keep busy, to keep from thinking about him." Many of her friends had remarried. "In a way I envy them," Annie thought to herself, "but it's just not my way. When I gave my heart to Frank, I didn't save a little piece for someone else in the future. He got all of it. We grew up together. I don't think I could have adjusted to anyone else. Perhaps if I had found someone else, I would have been able to get rid of more of Frank's things." None of the children knew of the boxes stored in the attic still filled with Frank's favorite clothes, neatly folded away just as she had left them. Why she folded them, she couldn't say. Why not just dump them in a box and throw them away? That's how her heart felt. Feelings, unlike clothes, can't be folded up neatly and put away when they're no longer needed. "They would think me silly," Annie thought to herself, "But I just can't bring myself to get rid of them."

For a moment she relived those first few days after Frank's death. "I must have seemed like a zombie as I folded those clothes and put them in those boxes. But somehow touching his clothes one last time helped me hold on to him. He was such a handsome man. And honest, too. Sometimes I wish he had been a better businessman. The little bit of insurance he left me sure didn't stretch very far. I'm so glad our house was paid for. I don't know what I would have done otherwise. The children make fun of my frugal ways how I turn off the lights and wear extra clothing in the winter. Frank used to say I could pinch a penny so hard, it cried, ˜Uncle!' But money doesn't go very far nowadays. And I do so love being able to buy the grandchildren a gift from time to time. And my church. Frank and I always tithed even when we couldn't afford it. ˜We give first to the Lord,' he always said, and we always did.

"It's that young pastor. Oh, I really like him, but he has things so stirred up. He wants to build a gym. He says it's for the young people. He says we need to keep them active and busy so that they won't get into trouble. Well, we didn't have a gym when I was growing up and I didn't get into trouble! We stayed active and busy, alright! It took the whole family to keep a household running then. We helped out with the cooking and cleaning and farm chores. There's only so much trouble you can get into when you're digging up potatoes not ten feet away from your parents. We stayed plenty busy. And then, hardly before we knew it, Frank and I were married. We were so young.

"Ella Jones doesn't like our little pastor. She says he caters too much to the young. Of course, it's not in Ella's nature to like a preacher. I'm sure Jesus would have disappointed her somehow, and Paul would have given her fits. So she's not a big supporter of the new building fund. I can't remember all her reasons, but I know the words, ˜over my dead body!' were in there somewhere.

"Ella's wrong about the pastor. He really cares for us older folk. I can understand that he is more comfortable with the young people. He's closer to their age. And really, if all of us oldtimers were like Ella, he would be smart to stay away from us.

"But we're not like Ella. I'm excited about the new people who are coming to our church. Every time I see my children I tell them about the new life our church is showing. I tell them about our new choir director and the new families that are joining our church. And, to tell the truth, I don't see anything wrong with a gym. Some of my happiest memories as a girl are from church hayrides, and weiner roasts, and games in the church basement. I don't see anything wrong with a place for the youth to play basketball.

"But why did they put me in this position? I already tithe. Now they've added this building program and they're asking people to make a threeyear pledge. Why, I may not even be around in three years. It's not fair. Besides they're asking people to come forward and leave a pledge card at the front. I don't really like parading my giving in front of everybody. Like Frank always said, ˜The peacock doesn't give half as much as the hen, it just makes a better show of it.' I'll bet some of those who are making big gifts don't even tithe. They won't even miss what they're giving. I will miss it . . . but it's still my church. I want to do my part. I can only give a little bit.

"I prayed about it last night. I explained to the Lord that I already tithed. I told him that I didn't have a whole lot left over. I asked Him if a couple dollars a week would be sufficient. He didn't say anything so I made it three dollars. Let's see, that's a hundred and fifty dollars in a year, four hundred fifty in three years. They need a thousand times that much. I feel like I'm letting them down. But it's the best I can do.

"I'm still not going down to the front. I slipped my card to young Joe. He's ushering this morning. He'll make sure my card gets turned in. I hope nobody finds out how little I gave. But it was the very best I could do."

Pastor Ed tried not to notice who was bringing their pledge card to the front and who was not. Most of the people in the church supported the drive. There were many new young families in the church. Of course, they were excited. It bothered him that their general level of giving was so low. They thought nothing of buying a new car or a camper, but the amount they gave to the church was a pittance. It's funny. The Bible talks about a narrow road to Heaven, but many of these new families were buying large, luxurious campers. If there really were a narrow road to Heaven, Pastor Ed thought to himself with a chuckle, half these people would get stuck and have to walk. Then he felt ashamed of himself. He tried not to judge. At least they were excited right now. Were they excited enough to make this dream a reality? If they did not raise the entire $450,000 in pledges today, they would have to put off their dreams indefinitely. That was the agreement that had been made in order to get the financial drive under way. It was all or nothing.

Sometimes Pastor Ed fantasized what it would it be like if everyone in the church gave their fair share. Then there would be no need for drives like this one. There would be plenty of funds for all of the church's work. But then he'd snap out of his dreaming. This was the real world and there were many people in the church who were really doing the very best they could. Looking out over the congregation, he knew that Ella would be fixed firmly in her pew when the pledges were collected. He had never been able to figure Ella out. She was one of the most faithful members of the church. And also one of the most negative. He thought of the old joke about the church that had a revival. The pastor was boasting about how well it had gone. "Did you bring many new persons in?" he was asked. "No," he replied, "but we drove a few wellchosen ones away."

Immediately he felt guilty. He didn't want to drive Ella away. He just wanted her to have a more positive spirit. What would he do if Ella Jones walked into church one morning with a smile on her face and only words of encouragement on her lips? Probably run to the window for a look. He'd always wanted to see pigs fly. Oh, well. Nobody promised him that ministry would be easy.

Then his eye wandered over to where Annie sat. And his heart sank. He always thought he could count on Annie. He knew she would not be able to give much. He wondered how she survived on the little bit of income she received. But still, he needed Annie's support. Annie was one of those solid souls who never said a mean thing about anyone. He knew among the older members in the church she was his strongest supporter. Could it be that she was opposed to the gym? Her head is down. She has somewhat of a disturbed look on her face. What could be troubling her? Pastor Ed flushed for a minute. If she is opposed, are there others? "This building means so much to our church's future," the pastor thought to himself. Could it be that all of our hard work has been in vain?

Pastor Ed knelt at the altar for a few moments after the service. His heart was pounding. He tried to calm himself. After all, he had prayed that God's will would be done. But it was difficult for him to believe that a new gym wasn't God's will. Rising from the altar, he made his way back to the study. The building committee was even now meeting in an upstairs room to tally the pledges. There was nothing that could be done now but to wait. He had challenged the people with a vision for the church's future. Volunteers had worked hard to contact all the members about the church's dream Yes, it had been a very thorough campaign. Still the outcome was uncertain. Pastor Ed suddenly felt drained.

The distress on Annie's face came back to him. He tried to put himself in her place. Why was she so uncomfortable, and why didn't she come forward with the others? Had he somehow offended her? Maybe he should have emphasized that people who already tithed were not being asked to give more. But, of course, he hoped they would give more. Let's face it, there is a core group in every church that must respond if the kingdom is advanced. Without them, the church would shrivel up and disappear. He didn't know that Annie tithed, but he would be very surprised if she did not. She loved her church. She loved Christ. And he thought he could always count on Annie's support. "Oh, God," Pastor Ed thought to himself, "this waiting is killing me."

Just then there was an excited knock on his door. "Pastor Ed," a voice said enthusiastically, "we made it." It was Joe, the young usher. "We only made it by the skin of our teeth, but we made it," Joe said. "Thank God," Pastor Ed thought to himself as he fought back tears of joy and relief. "Actually our first count showed us a few hundred dollars short," said Joe. "I couldn't believe it. After all that work, we weren't going to have our gym. So we counted again. And we came up with the same amounta few hundred dollars short. I have to tell you it was like a funeral in that room. And then I happened to remember that just before the service old, Mrs. Annie slipped her card into the pocket of my jacket. I guess she wasn't feeling up to coming to the altar. She just folded it up and slipped it in my jacket pocket. I didn't think anything of it. It fact, it had slipped my mind altogether. It was a miracle that I remembered it when I did. And pastor, it was enough to put us over the top. We did it! We did it! We're going to have a gym."

Annie sat in her kitchen. Something led her to take out her Bible even before making lunch. And she read once again the story of the widow's mite. She thought about Christ's words, "Truly this poor widow has put in more than all those who are contributing to the treasury. For they all contributed out of their abundance, but she out of her poverty has put in everything she had, her whole living." Annie held the Sacred Word in her lap for a moment. "Was she as embarrassed as I was, Lord?" she prayed, "that she had so little to give? I guess I can live with that. I just hope my little bit made a difference. If it did, then that is enough."